The Dark Adept of Toreau
by Aevin
Summary: With a mystery looming, Ivan looking for trouble, and a strange new Psynergy at work, can Isaac's group focus enough to defeat the hundreds of monsters beseiging the town?
1. The Road to Toreau

**The Dark Adept of Toreau**

**by Aevin**

**1. The Road to Toreau**

The outer rim of this Angara Islet was like a vast and lonely beach, with nothing but sand and ocean to please the eye. But now, as the group of four had traveled farther inland, the terrain had given way to equally joyless plains. The flat expanse of grass was exactly the same dreary color as the sand had been, and the four travelers began to hope for any sign of civilization. They had come here searching for Jenna, Kraden and the missing Elemental Stars, but had not seen so much as a sign of intelligent life since arriving.

All they had seen for five straight days of travel were monsters. For the few that could talk, the conversation had been repetitive and tedious: "We're going to kill you, eat you, beat you, crush you." Of course, such threats were never fulfilled. The worst injury anyone had sustained was a gruesome wound to Garet's stomach, but the wound was not venomous and healed quickly with Mia's curative powers.

Two days before they could see the village of Toreau, the group already knew of its existence. Fifteen-year-old Ivan, the youngest of the group, could already sense it. A Jupiter Adept, Ivan carried the Psynergy of wind, which included minor psychic abilities. He could often predict minor events, and sometimes had intuitive feelings about a certain course of action. He also possessed the power to read peoples' minds, although he had to be touching them at the time.

"Is it safe?" asked Isaac, the group's leader, after hearing about the village's location.

But Ivan was unsure on that point. The four travelers had certainly slept in some treacherous places, such as the town of Billibin, where all the residents had turned to trees, and the flooded village of Altin--but every one of them had been in the "known world." On these unexplored islands off the shore of the Angara continent, they had no idea what to expect.

"I'm not sure," Ivan said, squinting at the horizon in front of him, as if he could read danger there. "There's something . . . strange about it."

Isaac nodded.

"What choice do we have but to try?" asked Mia, noting Isaac's indecision.

"Really," Garet agreed. "In case you forgot, we can defend ourselves. If the place is dangerous, we can just blast our way right back out!"

"You're right," Isaac decided. "It wouldn't make sense to pass up the first village we've seen just because it feels strange."

"I wasn't suggesting we should," Ivan muttered.

Isaac turned back to Ivan, who looked oddly depressed. "You make sure and tell us if anything else comes to you, okay?"

Ivan brightened visibly at mention of his usefulness. Looking at Isaac as he would a comforting older brother, he nodded.

For all five days of their journey, the sun had blazed hotly down on the beige grass and sand. During the afternoon of the sixth day, however, it began to rain, drenching the party with a fury of water instead of light. Still, the group pressed on as the weather strengthened its efforts to drive them back.

Although miserable, the four continued on toward the village, now able to see it through the storm with the help of Ivan's _Reveal_ Psynergy. The town looked oddly like a huge stone cube, but the sight cheered them nonetheless--anything would be better than this rain.

Less than a mile from the village, Mia noticed something that posed a huge challenge to this train of thought. The group was struggling bravely on when Mia, from the back of the group, let out a shocked scream and dropped to the sodden grass.

"What's wrong?" shouted Isaac through the fury of the rain, but Mia simply sat on her knees, pointing in horror at the puddles the storm had created.

"The water!" she insisted. "Look at the water!"

Isaac glanced at Ivan, who looked sick and pale, then at Garet, who shrugged his shoulders with confusion. Then he dropped to the ground beside Mia, leaned down and put his eyes inches away from the puddle she pointed at. The thick clouds blotted out almost all of the light, but he could almost see something in the water, almost. . . .

"Garet," he called, but the other boy was a step ahead of him. Using the Psynergy of fire, he called forth a bright yellow jet of flame and sent it in a glorious arch toward the sky.

Isaac gasped. The light of Garet's fire was a faint yellowish red that reflected off the surface of the puddles, but in spite of the odd lighting, Isaac could see the cause of Mia's distress all too clearly. In the puddle that he and Mia now knelt in, as well as in the nearby pools of water, the liquid carried an unnatural, wicked red cast.

The water was red with blood.


	2. The Great Devon

**2. The Great Devon**

The group was decided. The blood which was being washed from the ground everywhere around the town did not change their mind. Mia's terror did not make a difference, nor did Ivan's somber assurances that "something feels wrong about this." Even when they saw the entrance to the town opened like a huge stone mouth, they continued onward, conscious of the narrow confines and the ease with which they could be ambushed. After passing through the entrance, they found themselves in a long stone hallway that felt like a cave. At first, they were too happy about getting out of the rain to worry much, but after a few steps, Ivan began to feel an even stronger sense of wrong.

"Walk very slowly," he suggested. "I think we're being watched."

"No," growled a deep, masculine voice that echoed stupidly down the dark corridor. "Don't walk at all, ye little bastards! Freeze, or you'll be full o' holes in seconds!"

"Great," Garet muttered.

"Shut up, ye stupid brats! We got no use for your dumb blabbin'!"

The four travelers glanced at each other, perhaps considering the intelligence of their "hosts," perhaps wondering which party was composed of the stupid, blabbing ones.

"I'm sendin' some men down to ye," the voice informed them in its dull, preternaturally deep slur. "Be still, or your young flesh'll be so much more mush in the ground, come tomorrow."

Again, the four exchanged flustered looks. Isaac actually appeared to be restraining a laugh, while Garet offered him an expression which seemed to beg, "Please! Let me burn them!" Were these guys serious? Could the owner of the silly voice really be a match for the power of their Psynergy? Still, Isaac decided to play along, and the group stood perfectly still and silent.

Soon, they heard footsteps on the stone floor, and three men approached. All their mirth vanished at the sight of these men, these monsters. Garet, who was considered especially muscular for his age, simply could not believe the size of these brutes. Each of them were about six-and-a-half feet tall, with muscles in places Garet didn't know existed. He felt sure that any one of these men could crush his skull with one huge, meaty hand. Their tunics--all blue--were pressed ludicrously to their granite bodies. All three of them had huge beards, bushy eyebrows, and deep, hateful scowls.

"Wow!" Garet exclaimed just before one of the mutants roughly wrestled his axe away from him. Isaac's sword was taken without struggle by another of the three brutes, while Mia and Ivan were pinned easily to the wall by one giant, who removed their staves. With this done, the man dropped his arm and allowed the two Adepts to collapse to the stone floor.

"Get up, you pathetic excuse of a boy!" the mutant said to Ivan.

Painfully, Ivan reached up and placed a hand inside his tormentor's, as if for help in getting up. His three friends could clearly see the instant when he activated his _Mind Read _Psynergy, though the hunk of meat he was reading was none the wiser. The man clamped his hand so tightly onto Ivan's that the boy screamed, and jerked him roughly by one arm to his feet.

Ivan stood there a moment, crying in spite of himself and massaging his hand, before saying, "They're taking us to see someone called 'Devon.'"

Suddenly, one of the men cuffed him, his unnatural muscular power sending the Jupiter Adept flying into a wall. "It's disgusting to hear 'is name coming from such a pathetic creature," he snarled. "Master Devon's the greatest man in Toreau. Even a baby like you'd better respect that."

Garet looked furiously at Isaac, begging for permission to fight the men and demonstrate who the real "babies" were. He wanted to beat the meatheads until their stupidity lapsed into silence, to hurt them quite badly for tormenting Ivan, the little brother of the group. At the same time, he felt a trace of awed fear--if these men were so huge, how big would this Devon, the one they called "Master," be?

They were forced down the long hallway toward the sound of rain on the other side. As they walked, Isaac looked up and saw slits in the stone walls where they could be spied on, or shot at with arrows. That, he guessed, was where the voice had come from earlier.

Eventually, they emerged from the tunnel into a rainy plaza. Short, cubical stone buildings hugged the inner side of the stone wall that surrounded the town. The plaza was nicely paved with square cobblestones, and at the center was a fountain that looked like a furious ocean under the pounding of the rain.

The group had barely begun to take in the town, miserable under the rain, when they were pulled into one of the stone buildings. Again, they were grateful to be out of the storm, but their captors forced them onward.

The inside of the building was plain, with walls, ceiling and floor all constructed of the same gray stone. The place looked so much like a jail that for a second Mia wondered if Ivan's _Mind Read_ had not been incorrect in some way. One of the men walked a short way to a door set inside one of the walls--the only trace of wood in this hall of stone. With humility that Mia would have believed beyond his crude exterior, the mutant knocked softly on the door.

There was a muffled voice from within, and the huge man entered. "Master Devon," the four companions heard him say politely, reverently. "We caught four prisoners tryin' to enter the village. We brought 'em to you."

Again, the group could barely hear a voice reply, but could guess what it said as they were directed toward the door.

"Behave yeself in front of the Master," one of the guards warned them. "Behave, or ye won't survive the 'sperience."

After being forced through the door, Isaac found himself in a room entirely different from the one he'd left. Just like the last one, this room was constructed entirely of stone, but somehow lacked the cold, jail-like atmosphere. A fire burned brightly in a stone hearth, bright carpets covered the floor, and pictures and drawings covered the walls. Against the back wall stood a large bookshelf practically crammed with books. In the middle of the room sat a huge desk, littered with papers. Seated at the desk, scribbling some final notes onto some of the papers, sat the Great Devon himself.

Isaac remembered one of the guards saying that Devon was the greatest man in all of Toreau, but the first thing he realized was that Devon could barely be called a man at all. The boy appeared to be even younger than Ivan--the Great Devon could not have been a day above fifteen. As the group approached, he stood up from his desk and approached them, grinning. Devon had black hair, and eyes that were a striking dark blue. His cheerful manner made all four of the travelers feel comfortable, in spite of the rough treatment they had received.

"Come in!" called Devon, favoring the travelers with a friendly smile. "The four of you look like you know some interesting things. Tell me all about it!"

"I think you have a little more explaining to do," replied Isaac flatly.

Devon's grin grew even wider, and his beautiful eyes glittered. "Oh, I will soon enough. But since you are my guests, why don't you go first?"

Isaac smiled. He was trying to be serious and logical--everyone was angry about how they'd been treated by Devon's soldiers--but the boy carried an almost-hypnotic charisma that was impossible not to respond to.

Garet felt it too. The boy was not at all muscular, and did not appear to be a fighter at all. Still, he carried a sense of command around him that no warrior, not even Garet, could fail to respect. The thought of this boy commanding and controlling the huge guards was somewhat awe-inspiring.

Incredibly, Mia was primarily attracted to Devon's dark good looks. Mia had always tried to be logical, no matter how strange situations became. Many times, her calm wisdom had carried the party through some of the most hectic adventures. Yet now, looking at this boy, she could not help feeling an embarrassing touch of emotion. Even though the boy was two years younger than herself, she saw something amazingly handsome in his deep blue eyes.

Ivan was fascinated. Devon's great charisma, and the fact that he commanded such huge soldiers filled Ivan with conviction that he had an amazing story to tell. Ivan found such great confidence strangely mysterious, and longed to solve the mystery in the simplest way he knew--if only he could get close enough! There was something eerily exciting about the idea of reading Devon's mind.

"Fine," Isaac agreed. "We'll tell our story first, as long as the brutes leave." He pointed at the guards, none of whom seemed to realize they'd been insulted.

"Of course!" Devon said instantly and cheerfully. "Tyrus, you and the others can leave, now."

The three men bowed low to the small teenager, gestures full of loyalty and deep respect, then left the room, closing the door behind them.

The four Adepts were left alone with the mutant commander.

Ivan stared. How _fascinating!_ Devon had ordered the guards, his only protection, out of the room. Was he clever, or extremely stupid? _Clever_, Ivan decided instantly. There was something about this odd boy that defied even the thought of stupidity. Devon had looked at Isaac and guessed from his face that he had no intention of attacking, and instantly deduced that Isaac was the group's leader. But there was more to it than that, Ivan realized. Devon was confident enough that he honestly believed he could win against them, four against one, if they chose to fight.

"Yeah, that's a lot better," announced Devon once his guards had left. "Those men are great in their own way--powerful and loyal, but not very smart. Because of them, you already know who I am--'The Great Devon' this and that . . . but what are your names?"

"I'm Isaac," he answered, already relaxing visibly.

"Garet," replied the Mars Adept.

"I am Mia," said the girl, with uncharacteristic nervousness.

"I'm Ivan," he said cautiously.

If only he could get close enough!

"Ivan. . ." he repeated the name. To its owner, it sounded far less important coming from Devon's mouth. "Ivan . . . are you all right?! Tell me my men didn't do this!" He walked over to Ivan to get a closer look at the bruise on his cheek, which was already beginning to swell. "That's horrible! Those men--if you cracked open their heads, you'd find nothing but muscle! How could they hurt you like this?" He lifted his arm, as if he were going to reach out and touch Ivan's bruise.

Ivan could have stretched out an arm and touched Devon, and that would have been enough for his _Mind Read _technique, but he wanted to be inconspicuous. Patiently, he waited for Devon to make the physical contact he expected . . . but then Devon turned and walked away.

_So close!_ For a second, Ivan considered simply dashing forward and seizing his target by the arm, but a quick glance at Isaac, shaking his head firmly, changed his mind.

"Let's save the story telling for another day," suggested Devon. "It's getting close to morning--I have business to take care of--and I'm sure you're all very tired. Your weapons will be returned to you, and you may stay at the inn as my guests. However, there is one little thing." He turned back to the group, wearing a sincere, concerned smile. "Don't leave Toreau until after tomorrow night."

"Why not?" demanded Garet.

"At night . . . huge monsters attack the village. It looks like they're going to launch their last real offensive tomorrow night. If all goes well, I'll defeat them then." But his eyes suddenly looked vague and distracted. Isaac saw it as the first real break in Devon's confidence. "Until then, I think you'll be safer in the village. It would be bad to be caught out there with the monsters. I'm sure you'd be killed."

Garet looked ready to protest this, but a quick look from Isaac stopped him.

"We can wait until then," Isaac agreed.

Devon looked delighted. "Great!" he exclaimed, grinning again. "By the way, it's been wonderful talking to someone_ normal_ for a change. Everyone in this village either wants to fight me or marry me." This might have come across as vain or conceited, but from Devon, it was neither.

"Good-bye, Isaac," Devon said, seizing the other's hand and giving it a good shake. "Bye, Garet." He shook his hand as well, and the process was repeated with Mia.

Ivan smiled as Devon approached; he knew he had won. Here was his physical contact, his chance to read Devon's mind once and for all. A handshake--how perfect!

"Farewell, Ivan." Devon began to extend his hand . . . and then froze. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at the Jupiter Adept with a strange suspicion. Then, he withdrew his hand without shaking, turned, and walked abruptly away.

Ivan gaped at him.

"Tell the people at the inn that you are my guests," Devon said without turning back to them. "Good night."


	3. The Dark Boy

**3. The Dark Boy**

"He's an Adept," Ivan declared later at the inn, the first time the group was alone together after the meeting. "I'm absolutely sure. I think he must be a Jupiter Adept, just like me. It's the only way he could have known to avoid physical contact. He might not know he's got those powers, but he was acting very strange whenever I was about to read his mind. It was the psychic power common to the Jupiter caste."

"Ivan," said Mia, "you can't know that. You never actually got close enough to read him, so you're really just guessing."

"I'm with Ivan on this one," Garet said. "Forget psychic powers . . . that Devon kid couldn't possibly keep such huge men under control without power to back up his authority. And did you hear the way he talked about beating those monsters? He's got to be an Adept. It's the only way."

"I like him," Isaac said suddenly. The other three looked at him with surprise. He'd been very quiet since their meeting with Devon, retreating into some inner world. Indeed, he seemed half asleep even now, as he lay gazing blankly up at the ceiling. And to put in such a blunt, unconnected statement . . . Yet somehow, he'd stated the feelings of the entire party in three short words. Isaac was good at that.

"Here's what we'll do. Tomorrow morning, we'll start early, and speak with the residents of Toreau. We'll ask as many people as we can about Devon. As for the monsters . . . he didn't ever mention sending his men to fight, did he?"

His companions agreed that he hadn't.

"Well," Isaac continued. "I'm not about to let the kid face an army of monsters all by himself. So, we'll finish talking to townspeople by sunset, then meet in the plaza for battle. By that fountain."

Ivan flinched. For some reason, the word "fountain" reverberated in his head, as if it held some special importance. He pictured the fountain in the plaza under a torrent of rainwater, then himself, dripping wet from the rain, standing next to it. He shrugged the strange thought quickly away.

"So, we've got a big day tomorrow," Isaac concluded. "Let's get some sleep."

* * *

As the group found out, the people of Toreau were eager enough to talk about Devon. Most everyone seemed to like and respect the boy as their leader. Devon's boast from the night before seemed surprisingly accurate--for every boy the group found doing push-ups, lifting weights, or boxing with another, they found a girl who had already made marriage plans for the black-haired youth. They found an abundance of boys--most already larger than Garet and no older than twelve--who were incredibly eager to "fight with Devon against the demons."

Of course, Isaac soon realized that that was the source of most of Devon's fame. He was charismatic, but his true talent had to do with his fighting skill. Evidently, the town had lived peacefully until a time about twenty years before, when they were first assaulted by the monsters. The men had formed an army, and fought bravely for fourteen years, but were on the verge of being crushed.

And then Devon had appeared. Then a small boy of about eight, he had single-handedly driven the beasts back into hiding. Three years later, the "brutes" had named him their commander, awed by the continuous ease with which he defeated their enemies again and again.

Most of the town had perfect confidence in their young leader. It seemed widely known that the last vicious attack of the monsters would take place that night. All the children the party encountered were already proclaiming Devon's victory, (usually with accompanying gestures and sound effects), but a few of the adults voiced concern. Devon's strength was great, they admitted, but even he would be no match for the full force of the monster army.

Now, the group walked back across the town's plaza. The day was bright and hot, and all the rainwater had been blazed away. The fountain was no longer dark and menacing--rather, it was filled with smooth, pleasant, clear water.

Ivan stared at it all the same.

Soon, the group reached a cubical stone house that stood well away from the main flow of traffic. It was tightly packed against the stone wall that surrounded the city, as if struggling to escape the clutter of the other homes. Not really expecting an answer, Isaac knocked on the door. No answer came, but the door swung open on its own, evidently not closed all the way.

Isaac gazed into the house, perplexed.

"Go in," Ivan suggested, his voice level and decided for once.

The others stared at him. "Ivan!" Mia scolded him. "We can't just walk into someone's house! Even if the house is empty, it's still wrong!"

Garet smiled, maybe amused at Mia's surprise. His look seemed to say, "Let's hear it, Ivan. What's gotten into you, little guy?"

Isaac simply looked confused.

"The house is not empty," Ivan announced. "But we're supposed to come here. We are . . . expected."

"Ivan," said Mia decidedly, "you are strange."

Ignoring her, the Jupiter Adept nodded at Isaac. "Go on."

Shrugging his shoulders, for once leaving the decision up to someone else, Isaac stepped through the door.

Immediately, he realized Ivan was right--the house was not empty. In a chair, invisible from the entrance, sat a boy looking--no, _glaring_ at him. The boy was incredibly pale, a look that was contrasted by the color of his tunic and long black hair. With his hands folded formally in his lap and a deep frown on his face, the boy held his dull blue eyes locked on Isaac.

"Hello," the boy said flatly.

_He's about Ivan's age,_ Isaac thought for no especially good reason. He nodded in greeting.

"We were wondering . . ." began Garet.

"_I'm _wondering why you're in my house," snapped the boy.

"If you'd let me talk!"

"Talk!" the boy hissed. "Talk all you want! You've shown no restraint in your other freedoms, so talk. But _don't_ tell me you are wondering. Rather, say you're _wandering_, since that's much closer to the truth."

Confused, Garet turned to Isaac for help.

"We're very sorry for the intrusion . . ."

"Aden," The boy cut him off. "I'm Aden."

"Okay," Isaac continued. "Sorry for the intrusion, Aden, but Ivan said it would be okay."

"Ivan . . ." he breathed the name. "You're Ivan, the youngest." He pointed to Ivan, who swallowed, then nodded.

Aden smiled--a look that seemed out of place, almost creepy, against his pale face.

"We'll leave," Isaac told him. "You're right. We shouldn't have come in here without permission."

"Did I _say_ you had to leave?"

Ivan stared. What was with this boy? Something about him was fascinating. Ivan felt much as he had when he'd first met Devon--this boy had an interesting story, an interesting mind, you could tell just by looking at him. Aden was a boy who begged to be read. Ivan would do it, if he could get close enough. . . .

He rolled his eyes at the thought, and remembered back to the previous night, and the advice Garet had given him.

Garet and Ivan had been the last in the group to fall asleep. Ivan was distracted for hours thinking about Devon, and Garet . . . he just liked to talk. So, naturally, the two had fallen to talking about Devon. Garet had seemed very interested in the way Ivan had waited for the perfect opportunity to read Devon's mind--and had failed because of it. "You have to be more aggressive," Garet had suggested, as if giving advice to a younger brother about girls. "Don't wait for your target to come to you. Just go get them." Although it had sounded strange, Ivan took the advice to heart.

_Be aggressive_, he thought now, and walked purposefully toward Aden. Reaching the other boy, Ivan stretched out his arm, and abruptly clamped his hand onto Aden's wrist.

"What are you doing?" asked Aden, alarmed.

Then Ivan called his _Mind Read_ Psynergy into action.

Suddenly, Aden's dull eyes grew huge with surprise. "Get off me!" he shouted, using his free hand to pry Ivan's fingers from his wrist.

But Ivan wouldn't let go.

His three friends stared at him with shock.

"STOP IT!" shouted Aden, shoving Ivan with all of his strength.

The Jupiter Adept flew backwards, his link with Aden broken, and tumbled awkwardly to the floor, barely avoiding hitting his head on the stone. As his friends helped him to his feet, he stared at Aden as if seeing him in a whole new light.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again!" commanded Aden, panting as he glared, wide-eyed, at his tormentor.

Ivan made no answer, and simply withdrew to the relative safety of his friends.

"What did you get?" asked Isaac with an amused sigh. "Was it worth it?"

"He's an Adept!" Ivan gasped. "Another one!" Actually, he hadn't received the information nearly so clearly. What he'd pulled from Aden's mind was two thoughts, both overlapped, one muffling the other. The first was, "_I can't let him know my secret,_" which was all but silent compared with the mental shriek of "_My God! He's reading my MIND!" _Only Adepts could tell when Psynergy was being used, so Ivan knew from the boy's reaction that Aden was an Adept.

"Are you sure?" asked Mia skeptically.

Garet snorted. "Next thing we know, we'll find out everyone in Toreau is an Adept."

"No," Ivan insisted. "Just Devon and Aden."

Aden flicked his gaze suspiciously between the members of the group, his eyes wide with something that was almost fear. "What's an Adept?" he asked.

"It's someone with black hair," Garet explained logically. "Devon's got black hair, so do you . . . there you go!"

Aden regarded Garet with an acidic glare. "I don't believe you're telling the truth . . ."

"Then we're not the only ones," Ivan accused. "Why don't you tell us about your _secret_?"

"I have no secrets," Aden snapped, daring anyone to oppose him.

Cautiously, Ivan inched closer to Isaac. Aden had a secret, all right. But somehow, Ivan couldn't bring himself to believe it was that he was an Adept. There was something deeper going on here, and he had to find out what.

Trying to be inconspicuous as Garet and Mia tried to pacify Aden, Ivan whispered to Isaac. "I have to read his mind again," he said quietly, hoping Aden wouldn't notice them for the time being. "It's important. But he's suspicious of me now. I need you to distract him, so I can get close."

Nodding and smiling as if amused by Ivan's plan, Isaac agreed.

"What did you just do?" Aden demanded, but his question was ignored.

"So, Aden," Isaac began. "What do you think of Devon?"

That switched Aden's focus of attention easily enough. "Devon?" he snarled. "Devon is a fool. A wretched, conceited, disgusting fool, who thinks he can command everyone around him just because he's got a little power. I'm just as old, and far smarter than that bastard, and you don't see _me _trying to manage this wretched town!" He didn't look at Isaac as he spoke, but instead talked vehemently to the floor in front of the earth user, lost in his own vocalization of hatred.

"You think you _could_ manage the city?" Isaac asked, moving into another corner of the room, away from Ivan. Although he was looking at the floor, Aden's eyes roughly followed the sound of Isaac's voice.

"What?" the dark-haired boy asked, as if his attention were focused on something else. His eyes twitched subconsciously toward Ivan, but not enough to detect him.

_It's now or never_, thought Ivan grimly. What was Aden's deep, dark secret? He had never felt such and urge to peek inside someone's mind before, not since Devon, and he had ultimately been denied his prize in that case. He would not make the same mistake with Aden.

Decidedly, he dashed toward his target and seized him by the wrist, this time with both hands. Seconds later, he summoned his _Mind Read _Psynergy again.

The other boy reacted violently.

This time, Aden didn't even bother trying to pry Ivan's fingers from his wrist. Instead of trying to free himself, Aden hooked his hands into claws and clamped them firmly into Ivan's lower arms. Before, he had tried to escape from Ivan's touch, but now he seemed equally determined to prevent Ivan's escape from his.

Ivan flinched as he felt the pressure of Aden's nails digging into his skin, and attempted to speed his power up, digging frantically to discover that one secret, the one piece of information he needed to escape.

And, growling with fury, Aden released a power of his own.

Thoughts and images rushed through Ivan's head, none of them belonging to him. "Too fast!" panicked Ivan through the increasingly incomprehensible blur. "What's he doing?!" The thoughts made no sense at all. As the room began to fade to black, Ivan was aware of having lost himself in Aden's thoughts, none of which were any longer worth the trouble of looking at. His _Mind Read _had trapped him somehow, enfolding him in mental and physical agony. His body convulsed under the force of so many indistinguishable images. Did he scream? He wasn't sure.

He felt like he was in a tunnel. The room, his friends . . . everything had disappeared, to be replaced by this horrible, cold, dark tunnel formed by Aden's thoughts and memories. At the end of this swirling tunnel, where light should have been, sat Aden himself, a sly, victorious grin stamped onto his pale face. But Ivan barely noticed the smile. What held his attention were Aden's eyes, a dull, cloudy blue that swirled inexplicably like the motion of a storm. If eyes were indeed windows to the soul, Ivan was sure Aden had no soul. Aden's huge black pupils stretched back a further distance than Ivan could imagine, an infinite extension of the tunnel his mind was lost in.

_What are you DOING to me?!_

Aden's dark voice answered him, sounding unbelievably alive as it bounced off of the memories that formed the walls of the cave. Yet the life his voice carried was not anything beautiful, but spoke of rampant, unchecked growth--viruses, bacteria, diseases.

_I'm teaching you a lesson._

With one final, desperate struggle to resist, Ivan allowed his consciousness to evaporate into the walls of the tunnel like a drop of dye into a river.


	4. Ivan's Lesson

**4. Ivan's Lesson**

Ivan's three companions watched the scene with awed interest. Could all of that Psynergy belong to Ivan?!

Ivan sat crouched calmly in front of Aden, who, after grabbing onto Ivan's arms, had done nothing more interesting than stare at him for several minutes. If they had based their conclusions on physical appearance alone, Isaac, Garet and Mia might have believed the two boys had fallen asleep while looking at each other. But as Adepts, they were aware of things that others were not. They stared with astonishment at the massive storm of electrical Psynergy that surrounded the two like a caul. If all that power belonged to Ivan, it was obvious he had carried his quest for knowledge much too far.

"Should we . . . separate them?" asked Mia tentatively, watching with concern the way Ivan clutched weakly at Aden's arms. All the while, the Psynergy swirled about them with such concentration that it almost seemed solid, a cocoon of power.

"No," Isaac decided. "It looks like they're in some sort of trance. It might hurt them if we suddenly pulled them apart."

"Huh . . ." said Garet thoughtfully as he looked back to the hypnotized pair.

Suddenly, most of the Psynergy vanished, although traces of it lingered about the heads of both boys, especially the eyes. Both dropped their grips on each other, and allowed their hands to fall limply to their sides.

Aden blinked. "That was interesting," he said without conviction.

Without a word, Ivan made his way robotically to his feet and walked toward his friends.

"Ivan!" Garet whispered, noticing how exhausted his companion looked. "What _happened?_"

"Later," said Ivan flatly, and left the house.

His three friends gazed curiously after him.

"Should we follow him?" Mia asked.

"No," Isaac answered softly. "He said he'd explain later. Right now, I've got a few questions for _this _guy."

Aden smiled faintly, but the expression seemed rather forced, piled crudely on top of his pale skin and empty, exhausted blue eyes.

* * *

For the people of Toreau, seeing an outsider was pretty uncommon. Seeing one who had apparently lost his mind was a rare treat indeed. Yet this was what appeared to be the case with the youngest of the Great Devon's guests, a light-haired boy of about fifteen. The boy had seemed normal enough in the early part of the day, as he asked questions with his friends--a little too touchy-feely for the tastes of the Toreau residents, but no apparently fatal flaws. But his later behavior was enough to fill all who beheld him with a conviction that first impressions were not always accurate.

Many of the villagers watched as the boy emerged from Aden's house, and that was the first sign of oddness--why _Aden?!_ Aden was crazy; few doubted that. As a matter of fact, the question of Aden's sanity was one of the few subjects on which anyone disagreed with the Great Devon. Aden was a social outcast, a tiny individual in a town where even the women were prone to have preternaturally bulging muscles. Still, most believed that his isolation was voluntary. The boy was antisocial, irritable, pale and sickly. No one in the village dared to visit him, for fear that his oddness would pass to them like a violently contagious disease.

The actions of the light-haired outsider seemed only to confirm their suspicions.

As some of the villagers would testify later, the only sign of life in the light-haired stranger was offered by the fact that he was moving. His face, which had been kind and genuine as he asked questions earlier in the day, was now slack, lacking all emotion. Any light that existed behind his violet eyes had gone out. Even the way he walked--as if he were wading through some thick, gelatinous fluid--looked strange, but he clearly wasn't conscious of his appearance. That much was certain.

Coming to a stop in the center of Toreau's plaza, the boy stood still for a second, eyes focused on nothing as he gazed into the distance.

Then he looked at the fountain. Large but simple, the stone fountain seemed to attract the youth's attention like nothing else. It was then that he attempted to smile. The grin stretched weakly across his face, nothing but an involuntary twitch of face muscles, as if he were genuinely amused but his body would not cooperate.

Then he walked slowly toward the bookstore.

The Toreau village book store was a sad business indeed. The fact was, most people in the village were far more interested in fighting than reading, and the business would have failed long ago if the Great Devon had not supplemented it with generous endorsements. That was why the large old man behind the counter was so shocked when the first customer in three weeks walked through the door.

The first thing he noticed was that the boy was one of the outsiders.

The second thing he noticed was that the boy was absolutely flipping insane.

"May I help you?" the old man asked tentatively, eager to sell a book in spite of his suspicions of the boy.

The customer didn't answer.

Instead, the boy walked across the store to one of the bookshelves, withdrew a book, and prepared to leave.

The old man was frightened badly by the boy--his blank violet eyes, staring into empty space as if seeing some great secret there, his stiff way of walking, as if he were not a boy at all, but a wooden puppet expertly carved into human shape--but he wasn't about to give up his first profit in weeks because his customer was a little creepy. "Boy!" he called. "You gotta pay for that!"

The light-haired boy froze half-out the doorway, and for one crazy instant, the old man hoped he would just continue walking, leaving his life forever and sparing him whatever horrors he was about to see.

Robotically, the boy walked to the counter, reached into his pocket, and plopped a handful of foreign coins in front of the old man. Then, he froze, staring absently into a random corner of the store. If those eyes, with their strangely dilated pupils, had been capable of reflecting human emotion, the owner would have believed the boy was contemplating some great mystery.

Finally, the boy turned and left the bookstore, his feet dragging.

The money on the counter was not enough. Still, the old man refused to even consider calling the boy back in. There was something downright disturbing about him, and it wasn't just the zombie-like way he walked, or the blank look in his eyes. The boy, he belatedly realized, had gone directly from the door to one of the shelves, taken a single book, and left. It was as if he had known the layout of the store by heart. But that was impossible. The only people who came in the store often enough to know it that well were the Great Devon . . . and that crazy boy, Aden.

Outside the store, the boy began staring with rapt fascination at the fountain. Again wearing that demented, wooden grin that was nothing more than a facial mold, his book tucked under one arm, he started toward the fountain.

* * *

"HellOOoo!" Garet called, placing his fingers inches from Aden's face and snapping them. "Anybody home?" 

"Yes," Aden responded at great length, not even bothering to raise his murky eyes from the floor. It was as if his neck had lost all power, growing so weak it was impossible to even support his head. The sardonic response Garet had expected didn't come, and that one word, that "Yes," lacked all conviction.

What had Ivan _done _to him?!

Ever since Ivan had left, Aden had fallen to staring at the floor. He talked sparingly, choosing to respond only when Isaac and company asked a question that could be answered in two or fewer words.

Much as they disliked the boy, all three felt a reluctant concern. Garet showed his by getting in Aden's face, trying to "wake him up." Isaac watched thoughtfully, as if wondering where he had seen such weariness before. Mia even attempted using her _Ply_ Psynergy to heal him, but to no avail. _Ply_ was used mostly to heal wounds, not to restore strength, much less strength of spirit.

"Don't you feel a little tired?" Isaac had asked once, as if to a child attempting, without success, to stay up all night.

"Yes," Aden answered colorlessly.

"Why don't you lie down for awhile?"

"No."

"You look pretty tired. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

No elaboration. It was pointless to ask him about the Great Devon or anything else when he was in this state, unless they wished to limit themselves to questions such as "Do you like Devon?" "Does he like you?" "Does he drink tea?"

"Do you think Ivan went too far?" Mia asked after everyone had grown bored of questioning Aden.

"No, answered Isaac in a thoughtful tone. "Ivan wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose--unless they were our enemy."

Garet looked worried. "I don't know, Isaac. If you'd heard the way he was talking, last night. . . . It was like he was desperate to read Devon's mind. If he felt that same urge with Aden. . . ."

"So," Mia suggested, "you think he just got started reading Aden's mind, and, after awhile, he just couldn't stop himself?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

"I don't think so," Isaac decided. "His _Mind Read _has never worked that way before. He said Aden was an Adept, and if all that Psynergy was Ivan's, then he's much more powerful than any of us thought."

Mia looked worried. "So you think Aden used Psynergy? Tried to defend himself in some way, and maybe the interaction hurt him?"

Isaac nodded. "The night of the storm in Vale, I saw people who looked like Aden does now. They were the ones that totally overexerted themselves trying to use Psynergy. It took some of them weeks to recover."

"But if he's hurt, then what about Ivan?"

Wearily, Garet walked over to Aden. "Do you like Ivan?" he asked, as if to amuse himself.

But the simple "no" he had expected didn't come. Instead, Aden raised his head to reveal the terrible expression on his face.

His eyes had turned almost entirely black, as if his pupils had widened to a point where they covered the iris completely. There was no emotion visible in those eyes, and Garet doubted their blackness was the full reason. But it was the smile that really gave him the chills. Wide, hideous, the expression of mirth had been transformed into something far more sinister. At the same time, it seemed oddly ingenuine, as if it were sculpted out of clay, as if Aden had barely managed to pull his face muscles into a suitable position.

One way or another, Garet had received an answer.

* * *

When Ivan awoke, the first--the only--thing he was immediately aware of was that he was wet. _Very _wet. His purple tunic and green cape stuck to his body, weighted down with the tremendous amount of water they had absorbed. He sat, his knees propped up, up to his waist in water, with more pouring over him at every second. One large source ran directly through his hair and over his face, and his dripping locks hung soggily over his eyes. 

He coughed, and the sudden jerk of his body nearly caused the object balanced precariously on his knees to sink into the water. Wretchedly, he leaned forward, clearing his face, to see what had happened.

He was seated in the fountain in the middle of Toreau's central plaza. Standing around him, keeping their distance, was what appeared to be the entire population of Toreau. They were staring at him. The average man, huge, muscular, tanned, was looking at him stupidly, eyes widened. Such men might have been thinking, _THERE'S something you don't see every day! _Those were the sober ones. A group of five large men, drunk, were laughing and coming closer, as if they were about to join him. The older women looked offended. The girls smiled, enjoying the show, and one about his age even waved at him provocatively, mockingly. The boys grinned as if they'd considered taking a dive into the fountain themselves--when they were younger, of course. A child of about three, leaning from her mother's arms, pointed at him and giggled.

Ivan supposed he had been rash to assume the whole town's population was here. There were only about sixty of them. . . .

Growing hot in spite of the cool water of the fountain, Ivan considered leaning back, letting the jet of water veil his vision, hide him from all those fascinated eyes--drown him. Instead, he dropped his eyes wretchedly to the book that rested on his knees, totally dry and balanced precariously above the rippling water.

He recognized it instantly. It seemed the more common stories were shared among the continents of Angara, Gondowan, and even these obscure islands off the coast.

The story was about a man with strange mind reading powers. He had fallen desperately in love with one woman, and they had made plans to marry. But eventually, the man began to worry about his fiancee's faithfulness. Constantly, he sought to restrain himself from using his power on his intended, but eventually, he gave in to the urge. He read her mind, and discovered that she was completely faithful, devoted entirely to him alone. Unfortunately, (and the book, propped open on Ivan's knees, rested on this page), the girl had felt the intrusion through a sixth sense common only to lovers. In the end, she had been driven insane, slaying first her lover, then herself.

As the townspeople stared at him, Ivan gaped at the book. _Aden. _Aden had done this to him. Somehow, Aden had controlled him using Psynergy. Shivering as the water poured over him, Ivan thought about the things Aden could have done to him. He had humiliated Ivan, punished him for the intrusion into his mind, but he could have done so much more. He could have forced Ivan to drown himself in the fountain. He could have forced him to jump off a cliff. He could have even forced him to kill someone. The possibilities were limitless.

Chilled from the cold of the water and his thoughts, Ivan was suddenly sure Aden was unlike any Adept he'd ever seen.


	5. Five vs 1,000: The Battle for Toreau

**5. Five vs 1,000--The Battle for Toreau**

Aden snapped out of his trance at about the same time Ivan returned. Drenched, Ivan was dripping water all over Aden's floor. His clothing hung about him, soaked, and his light brown hair hung over his eyes. He reminded Mia absurdly of a cat that had been stuck in the rain.

"Ivan," Garet began, hearing the boy enter. "We have to talk. Aden's been acting--What happened to _you?!_"

"Isn't it obvious?" Aden snickered. "He went for a swim."

As Ivan heard the voice, his face flooded with real fear. "Yes," he said shakily. "W-we have to t-talk . . . alone."

"We'd better make it quick," warned Isaac, who hadn't even looked up at Ivan's entrance.

"What happened?" Mia repeated, dumbstruck by Ivan's appearance.

At last, Isaac looked up, and smiled at the sodden boy. "How was the water?" he asked cheerfully. "Good?"

Ivan looked on the verge of breaking into tears--not that they would have stood out amid the rivulets of water already running down his cheeks. "No," he said. "He . . . t-they . . ." Every time he seemed about to begin an explanation, he glanced fearfully at Aden before falling silent.

"Let's go to the inn," Isaac suggested, sorry now for his little stab at humor. "There, you can get yourself cleaned up. We'll talk later. But we'll have to make it quick, because it's almost sunset, and we have . . ." he glanced thoughtfully at Aden, ". . . an appointment to keep."

Chuckling sardonically, Aden said, "Good luck with your appointment. Maybe we'll meet again."

"I hope not!" Ivan whispered.

* * *

When the four Adepts were finally ready for battle, the sun was sinking redly into the last short distance on the horizon. When they emerged from the inn, the first thing they noticed was how deserted the plaza had become. It was nearing dusk; people should have been hurrying about to finish their final errands before all the businesses closed. Instead, every one of Toreau's square, stone buildings had been closed and locked, and all the lights had been put out.

But the plaza wasn't entirely empty, after all. Seated on the stone rim surrounding the fountain, gazing watchfully around him and skillfully twirling a tiny shortsword like a baton, was Devon. He was dressed from head to foot in black--pants and shirt constructed from the same material, a black cape hanging down behind him almost into the waters of the fountain; even his shoes were black. All that remained for contrast was the white circle of his charismatic face.

_He's dressed for death tonight_, Isaac thought grimly.

Nonetheless, when Devon looked up and spotted them, he smiled radiantly. The smile was one so perfect it could not be faked, and all four of the travelers felt their mouths twitching in return, even Ivan, who was preoccupied with trying not to look at the fountain.

"I _thought _I'd see you here!" Devon exclaimed, rising to his feet. With a quick twitch of his wrist, he spun his shortsword into the strip of cloth that served as a belt without damaging the fabric at all. "You'd be a lot safer at the inn, but since you're not citizens I can't order you to stay away."

"We're here to help you," Garet announced, already reminded of how much he admired the boy.

"Yes. I know."

_He's only fifteen!_ Mia thought, helpless to stop the blush that was flowing through her face. She kept looking into Devon's eyes, imagining they were the color of the oceans viewed from space--the clarity and intensity of color was amazing. Why was Devon-- someone so young, so small--so attractive to her? The only explanation she could offer was that his confidence was what made him so charming.

"I don't know what help you can be, but tonight I'll welcome any assistance I can get. Besides, anyone who can make it across the plains from the coast must have some sort of strength."

_He's a Jupiter Adept_, thought Ivan with certainty.

Devon became suddenly serious, and his smile vanished. "Here's the plan. There's only one direct entrance to the town." He indicated the long stone tunnel the group had originally come through. "My men have got that covered. Any monsters that try come in there will be cut apart by Tyrus and his archers. The real threat will come from there . . ." he pointed to the huge stone wall that surrounded the town. "These beasts are skilled at climbing. I'll be at the top of the wall, attacking them before they have a chance to ascend. I'll hold them off for as long as I can, but eventually, I'll be forced to retreat to here, the central plaza. When I get here, the four of you will protect me from physical attacks and slay as many of the monsters as you can. If all goes well. . . ."

But Isaac was shaking his head violently.

"What?" Devon asked.

"The four of us will fight with you at the top of the wall," Isaac decided.

Devon smiled. "No one doubts your bravery, Isaac, but you won't be of any use up there. You see, I have ways of attacking the beasts from a distance, cutting them down as they climb. But your weapons wouldn't be of use until they reached the top, and that's just when we'd have to retreat."

"We have . . . other weapons," Isaac said slyly. "Just wait and see."

Blinking, Devon decided, "Fine. I'll trust you. If you get yourself killed, I'm free of blame. The five of us will fight from the top of the wall, and we'll fall back here if we have to."

Isaac agreed.

With this settled, the five climbed the outer wall of Toreau via the ladder that had been set up, and spaced themselves evenly around the top.

By now, the sun had set, leaving the five in complete darkness. Still, it seemed they could see forever from atop the tall walls of Toreau. Around the town lay an almost preternaturally flat expanse of sand-colored grass. If Devon had attempted to set up traps and pitfalls in this perfect plain, it would have been nearly impossible to hide them properly, darkness or no.

"It won't be long," Devon said, gazing calmly off toward the vanished horizon, and for the first time Ivan saw him as the leader he was. Ivan had thought Devon's charisma, combined with his fighting skill, had earned him a spot as the commander of Toreau. But now, gazing carefully into the darkness, Devon looked tragic, noble, heroic, every bit the leader he really was. For an instant, Ivan wondered if Devon were prepared to sacrifice himself for the town.

A light wind was blowing, driving the chill of the evening through their clothing and into their skin. All five of them shivered, as if in expectation of the battle to come.

"There," Devon called, his voice level and unafraid. "Here they come."

At first, the other four wondered what he was talking about, but minutes later they, too, were able to see their enemies, advancing at an incredible speed toward the town of Toreau.

The creatures reminded Ivan most closely of bears, though even that came nowhere close to describing them. They resembled bears in only the vaguest ways--it was how they carried themselves, some lumbering on all fours, others running in a wobbly fashion on two legs, carrying blunt weapons such as clubs in their razor-clawed hands. Hairless, the creatures were covered in a thin, transparent hyde that revealed red muscles and veins of blood beneath. Their eyes--yellow eyes, reflective like cats'--were locked with inhuman hate on their one real objective--Devon. Again, they resembled bears only rudimentarily--they were, after all, twice the size of the largest bears.

There were hundreds of the beasts, coming from all directions, surrounding the town as if it were an island in the middle of a red sea of monsters, all charging ferociously and mindlessly, closing the distance to five hundred yards, four hundred, three, two. . .

"Here goes!" Garet shouted almost cheerfully as he called his Psynergy to life. A red power hovered about his body as he stood up straight, flinging his arms into the air. The force of his red, smoky power rippled his clothing and hair as if he were standing in the full force of a powerful burst of wind. And, on the ground below them, seeming to burst from the earth underneath their enemies' feet, erupted a massive explosion of fire. At first it appeared as a wall of living flame, blocking the beasts' path to the town on Garet's side, but then it broke into pieces, sending spirals of flame in all directions, cutting the beasts viciously, mercilessly, catching their bodies on fire. It was one of Garet's favorites, the _Flare Storm_ Psynergy.

Ignoring Garet's attack, the wave of beasts surged over the charred bodies of their companions and continued toward the town.

Letting out a shout of power, Isaac attacked. Like Garet, he threw his arms into the air. Like Garet, he allowed the power of his Psynergy to flow over his body--but his power was green, not red.

Ivan, Garet and Mia knew the Psynergy instantly. It was called _Mother Gaia_, one of the most powerful earth-based attacks. Beneath the monsters' feet, the ground separated into a huge chasm. Unable to stop their momentum in time, about twenty of the monsters plunged headlong inside, and were torn apart long before they hit bottom by a cyclone of flying debris--rocks and chunks of earth varying in size from small pebbles to huge, jagged boulders. The debris swirled around forcefully, leaving the confines of the chasm and mowing down the beasts closest to it. Then, the boulders abruptly fell to the ground and the chasm closed, as if it were a mouth closing forever on its victims.

But the beasts kept coming.

Then came Ivan. His clothing and cape already whipped around under the ferocious gale of his purple Psynergy.

Thunder rumbled, and suddenly the sky was lit with the blue light of electricity. Jumping downward from the sky, a surge of lightning lit the ranks of the monsters with such brilliance it was almost impossible to see the shadowy forms of flying bodies through the white wall of electricity. When the light finally cleared, there was a huge space that was completely free of the beasts. The attack was called _Shine Plasma_, a ferocious wind attack if Ivan had ever seen one.

The empty space was quickly filled as the monsters pressed continuously onward.

Blue power hung about Mia's body and upraised arms. Her long, bluish hair fluttered . . .

And unbelievably huge boulders of ice fell like hail from the sky, crashing with terrible shattering sounds into the enemy ranks. Those who were not crushed immediately were soon frozen to death by the cold that radiated from the boulders as if they were hearts of ice. _Freeze Prism_, the attack was called.

Devon had been watching all of this with a faint species of surprise. Now, the other four looked at him, as if for a judgment on their power.

An exhilarated grin spread across the boy's face. "Impressive," he called over the sounds of the enemy's rage. "But watch _this_! It's a little something I've been calling '_Dark Plane.'_"

With a shout, he threw his arms up into the air, calling up his own power. His cape blew out behind him, and his voice swelled with the force of his power in a chordant crescendo. As if excited by the prospect of battle, his Psynergy swirled hectically around him

_Black _Psynergy.

Below Devon, the plain erupted with his power. It looked as if huge black pillars grew up from the sparse plain, incinerating any of the beasts they touched. New pillars emerged everywhere at random, huge, dark pistons of destruction. The random appearance of Devon's attack reminded Ivan of the bubbles in a cauldron of boiling water. The beasts were simply plowed down by the force of Devon's Psynergy.

At last, Ivan knew for certain that Devon wasn't a Jupiter Adept.

However, he saw as the gristly mutants began to regroup for another vicious charge, there was no time to think about that now.

So the cycle of Psynergy began anew, all colors of power flashing along the top of the narrow wall before being released in a storm of light and sounds.

Mia; _Deluge_--A fierce rain began to fall as the blue Psynergy flashed, huge drops the size of baseballs slamming into the foes directly in front of the Mercury Adept. The drops quickly grew larger, larger, until the word "drop" was totally absurd. The masses of water--easily as big as boulders, colliding and combining as they fell--created a beautiful but deadly crystalline pattern in the air. When they landed, they carved huge, muddy bites out of the earth, and larger, bloodier bites out of the mutants. Mia squeezed her eyes shut, horrified at the destruction caused by a power she believed best used for healing.

Garet; _Fiery Blast_--Among the groups of beasts in front of the Mars Adept, a series of bright, white-hot explosions sent the monsters flying in all directions. Others caught fire and began running frantically among their companions, and still others let out shrieks of rage and pain impossible to hear above the explosions, and covered their scorched eyes with their clawed hands.

Isaac; _Wild Growth_--Shafts of thorns as wide as the trunks of ancient redwoods split the ground as they grew with ferocious, impossible speed. The thorns on these monstrosities, hundreds in number, were at least a foot long and razor-sharp. The plants writhed against each other like snakes, wrapping around the enemies, squeezing, constricting--stabbing.

Ivan; _Sonic Slash_--As Ivan's wind-based Psynergy cycled into his clothing and hair, the air directly in front of the beasts went eerily still, oddly silent in spite of the hideous screams rising from the army. Then, invisible in the darkness, the air itself began to concentrate, to focus into something solid, something sharp. And then the invisible projectiles were loosed. About twenty blades, sharper than any razor but made of nothing but air and sound, sliced through the monsters, cutting some in half, amputating limbs, and sending blood spraying everywhere. Rapidly, the blades curved destructively through the enemies of Toreau, and finally dissolved back into the air before the droplets of blood could even hit the ground.

Devon; _Tar_--Again, the alien black Psynergy encased the Great Devon like a black cloak. And, below where the five Adepts stood, targets for any archer but safe from the beasts' powerful melee attacks, a huge patch of earth abruptly melted into a thick, boiling black fluid. Sucking the creatures down like quicksand, and burning others with the blackish steam it emitted, Devon's attack destroyed many of the monsters before solidifying back into the ground, leaving some of the dead beasts half-buried in what had been liquid seconds before.

The endless barrage of Psynergy was having a profound effect on the monsters. Over 2/3 of the creatures lay dead, and the third that remained were mostly wounded and handicapped, crawling over the bodies of their comrades in their determined rush toward Toreau. Still, about three hundred remained, and showed no sign of surrender, no sign of defeat. Three hundred--still enough to crush the small military town with little resistance. Worst of all, using such massive attacks was quickly draining the Psynergy of the town's defenders.

It was Garet who gave out first. Physically, Garet had always been a step ahead of the others, but when it came to Psynergy, he was the weakest. Especially compared to Ivan and Mia, Garet's Psynergy had always been easily exhausted. In the small, brief battles the company was used to fighting, this was rarely a problem, but when faced with a long battle against hundreds of foes, relying exclusively on Psynergy, Garet wore down quickly. At first, he tried to hide his weakness, but when he could no longer cast the simple _Fireball_ Psynergy, he knew there was no point in pretending any longer. "I can't go on," he said, panting heavily as if breathing his guilt.

Devon's order was instantaneous. "Withdraw back into the town!" he shouted clearly above their enemies' screams. "We'll risk damaging the buildings, but from there we can form a tighter defense. When they begin climbing over the walls, hit them with your weaker spells before they can climb down. Now--_Go_!

With a touch of guilty relief, Garet realized that he wasn't the only one who was nearly exhausted. Isaac was sweating profusely, and panting loudly. Mia looked unusually pale. Of the five, only Ivan and Devon seemed relatively unfazed from the battle so far.

When they reached the central plaza, Devon arranged them all around the fountain in the center, forming a small circle that faced out toward the wall. From there, they blasted anything that came over the wall. After a few simple fire attacks, Garet was totally exhausted. Isaac soon followed.

Mia took a little longer to submit. For awhile, she hit the creatures with her _Drench _Psynergy, but it had little effect, so she switched to ice attacks. Still, her element was not well-suited to attacking with simple spells. Finally, her Psynergy was depleted, and she gave up.

Ivan and Devon lasted the longest. While Ivan rapidly fired at the mutants with _Slash_, a weaker version of his _Sonic Slash _ability, Devon shot them down with beams of black energy from his fingers. Both attacks were quick and deadly, but there were simply too many of the monsters. It was impossible for Ivan and Devon each to protect half the town alone. Still, they tried, both panting heavily, dripping sweat as they fought for the lives of all in Toreau. Ivan looked like he was about to collapse, and Garet eventually rushed to help him in the only way he could--by holding him up. Isaac rushed similarly to keep Devon on his feet. The two youngest Adepts lasted an admirably long time, but soon, practically in-synch, as if they had planned the signal ahead of time, the power from the two boys fell abruptly silent.

"Now what?" asked Garet, grimly watching as the beasts poured, unhindered, over the wall of Toreau.

Devon was panting so heavily he could barely talk, but he shoved Isaac away from him so he could stand on his own. "We still have weapons, don't we? We _fight!_" With that, he drew his short sword and held it shakily in front of him. The others followed his example.

Isaac drew his sword. Garet bravely bore his axe. Mia prepared to use the last of her strength to swing her staff dangerously into the enemies. Ivan brought his staff to the ready, then leaned on it for support.

It was a last stand. They were doomed, and they knew it. The goal was to bring as many beasts down with them as possible.

Even in this crisis, what could have been the final seconds of his life, Garet felt a poignant admiration for Devon, the younger boy who had proven every bit as brave and determined as himself.

In total, about sixty of the creatures remained of the rough thousand that had begun the attack. The combined Psynergy of five Adepts had been devastating. It was morbidly ironic that the sixty monsters who remained--who had pressed on in the hopeless attack, oblivious to the deaths and injuries of their own soldiers--would be just enough to finish the job.

But the beasts never reached the Adepts. As the creatures finally breached the walls for good and began charging across the plaza, the men of Toreau ran to meet them, rushing from their stations at the tunnel with deep, fierce battle cries that entirely drowned out the sounds of the beasts. The huge men rushed at the monsters, cutting them apart with their swords as if they were nothing but grass, their huge muscles flexing machine-like under their skin. At last, the beasts tried to flee when they saw their defeat at hand, but found themselves stuck between the inner wall and the Toreau men, unable to climb fast enough to reach safety. The same wall that had blocked their entrance now blocked their escape.

Devon shouted gleefully, as if the sight of victory had restored his strength. He rushed to join his men, cutting down beasts left and right as if participating in an invigorating dance. Blood sprayed, monsters perished, and Devon loved every second of it.

When all the monsters were destroyed, the men of Toreau let out a powerful shout of victory. Ivan, Mia, Garet and Isaac joined in, but none were apparently as loud as the Great Devon, screaming and shouting with glee alongside his men. Soon, civilians began emerging from the houses to join what was rapidly becoming a victory party. Crowds formed in the bloody streets and headed for the tavern. Tonight, Ivan thought, would be a merry night for the tavern's owners and customers alike.

The four travelers didn't go to the tavern. Instead, they lingered in the town square, talking and resting. After congratulating his men, Devon joined them. He was panting jaggedly, and his cheeks were flushed, but this time it was not from exhaustion and despair, but the thrill of victory. A permanent grin was stamped across his bright face.

"They're _gone!_" Devon shouted, and the travelers grinned. "I mean, there's still a big mess to clean up, but that can wait. I can't believe they're actually _gone!_" He laughed out loud. And, to everyone's surprise, Devon was so high on excitement that he whirled and blindly embraced the closest person to him--who happened to be Ivan.

Suddenly caught by Devon's embrace, Ivan was at first too surprised to do anything. But as his embarrassment subsided, he realized that the chance he had been looking for had finally arrived. The opportunity was simply too much for Ivan to resist. He knew what he was about to do was wrong, knew that Devon would recognize it instantly. He knew it was a type of stealing, that he had no business taking something so forcefully. He thought of Aden's harsh lesson, how angry the boy had become . . . and none of it mattered. With the Great Devon hugging him, providing him with perfect, unguarded physical contact, Ivan simply couldn't resist. Wrapping his arms tightly, possessively around the other boy, Ivan once again initiated his _Mind Read_.

Submerged in Devon's thoughts, the first thing Ivan became aware of was the commander's glee--total, uncensored delight at having defeated the opponents that had tormented his town for years. But this pleasant feeling--so powerful and pure that Ivan could not only read it, but feel it himself--quickly passed into a surprised, horrified feeling of panic.

_Ivan?! How could you do this to me? HOW THE HELL COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! I THOUGHT YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON!_

Then, something clicked. If Ivan were indeed a thief, digging for treasure in the caverns of Devon's mind, what he found was truly golden.

_You BASTARD!_ came the mental sob. _Get out of MY MIND!_

Ivan knew what was going to happen long before he felt Devon's dark power rushing through his body, chilling him and expelling him. His grip on Devon was torn apart as the black Psynergy exploded into his body, sending him flying backwards, fighting for balance . . . and finally striking his head on the cobblestones of Toreau's central plaza. For a second, his vision was entirely black, and his fingers and toes tingled numbly. When his vision cleared, he wished he could fade into the place he had glimpsed, the peace of unconsciousness, rather than having to look at the expression on Devon's face.

The fifteen-year-old commander had tears in his blue eyes as they darted frantically among the four travelers. When they settled on Ivan, they showed a mixture of rage and another emotion--vulnerable hurt, as if his fragile feelings had been crushed by one mighty blow.

"I _told you _never to do that again!" Devon hissed.

Staring accusingly at Ivan for another second, Devon spun quickly away and fled into the darkness of Toreau.

When he had gone, Garet gave a low whistle. "You really _are _addicted, aren't you?" he said to Ivan.

But Ivan's violet eyes remained locked on the place Devon had been moments before. He felt horrible, overwhelmed with guilt. The sight of tears--_tears!_--in Devon's usually-confident eyes was too much to bear. He felt tears in his own as he thought over what he had done. When he first met Isaac and Garet, he had used his _Mind Read _on them. Both, as Adepts, instantly understood what was happening, and had become frightened. In return, as an apology, Ivan had shared his ability with them, allowing them to see each other's thoughts. Finally, he had promised never to use it on Isaac and Garet again. Where had his consideration gone? He had shown no courtesies to Devon, had given nothing, only taken the deepest secret in the other boy's heart.

And what a secret it had been.

"I get it!" Ivan said, awed as he stared into the air where Devon had been. "They're the same! Devon and Aden are the same person!"


	6. Parting Empathy

**6. Parting Empathy**

The sun reflecting off the cobblestones seemed pale and distorted to Ivan. It was as if he had seen sun for so long that his eyes had grown weak, displaying the world under such light as if it were a drawing whose colors had long since faded. He looked at the fountain, whose waters now seemed to run sluggishly through the stagnant day, and thought helplessly of Aden, of Devon. The fountain perfectly symbolized every mistake he had made since entering Toreau. He pictured the rage in Aden's eyes, the pain in Devon's, and the two images overlapped. He had caused all that; he had hurt those two, that one person irreparably. Many times, the other members of the party had tried to cheer him up--Isaac with empty assurances, Mia with logic, Garet with jokes--but soon they all gave up. Ivan had been in the wrong, after all, and he knew it. Nothing anyone could say would take that away. Besides, they had other things to worry about--such as stocking supplies for the journey back to their ship. Ivan should have helped, but the others left him alone, sulking as he sat there next to the fountain.

He would never see Aden or Devon again. He would never be able to apologize. He thought of the sympathy Devon had shown him when he'd noticed the wounds inflicted by the guards, the determination he'd shown when fighting to save his town, and the cleverness of Aden's painful lesson. All had come from one amazing young man who Ivan had permanently offended.

Quietly, Isaac approached him, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Ivan, it's time to leave."

Ivan looked up, and his violet eyes appeared closer to gray. "He thinks Aden is a terrible person," he said, as if trying in vain to justify what he had done. "He believes, he, Aden, is antisocial and totally incapable of earning respect. So he uses his Psynergy to transform into Devon, creating an alter-ego he believed to be much better than himself. Isn't that awful?"

Isaac said nothing, but nodded somberly.

"And now, we'll leave, and he'll believe I'm avoiding him because I know he's Aden. Which is true enough." Ivan sighed.

"Would you like to . . .?"

"No," Ivan answered before Isaac could finish. "I wouldn't dare visit him now. Not even to apologize."

The two regained their feet and walked toward the stone tunnel that was the entrance and exit to the town of Toreau. They were quickly joined by Garet and Mia.

About a third of the town had turned out to show them off. Wearily, Ivan recognized many of the villagers who had stared at him the previous day during his bath in the fountain. But this time, there was nothing mocking in the way any of them smiled or waved. The village simply believed the four Adepts were heroes.

Ivan did not feel like a hero.

As they neared the entrance to Toreau's stone tunnel, the party slowed. Leaning against the wall off the tunnel, waiting for them, was Aden. Slowly, squinting from the sunlight as if it were going to melt him, Aden emerged and confronted the party, grimacing. He was dressed entirely in black--the same outfit Devon had worn the night before, as if the boy had changed his body but was too exhausted to change his clothes. Spots of blood and dirt dotted the wrinkled fabric, more visible in the light than they had been in the darkness of the previous night.

"So," said Aden flatly, "you know."

At the sight of Aden, most of the other villagers had fallen silent. What would _he_ be doing here, the crazy boy who only came out of his home to buy books, the antisocial wretch who slept all day, whose only income was the unexplained endorsements given him by the Great Devon?

Aden had made the Adepts the center of a new kind of attention, no longer the center of fun at a festival, but the center of drama at a funeral.

"Regardless of what you know," Aden said, "I still must thank you on behalf of the town. Without your help, 'the Great Devon' would surely have fallen."

Even though Ivan knew at least part of Aden's speech was genuine, it all sounded like bitter sarcasm to him. The dark boy applied an exaggerated sneer when referring to Devon, for example. He couldn't help but note the drastic difference in the personalities of Aden and Devon--Devon had been effortlessly confident, but Aden seemed to taint everything he said with negativity. It was striking that the same person could be so different at different times.

Aden's pale face seemed out of place in the sunlight. Extending his hand to Isaac and still squinting his dull blue eyes against the light, he smiled bitterly.

"Thank you, Isaac."

Smiling warmly, Isaac shook Aden's hand.

"Garet . . ." With a somewhat less successful smile, Garet shook his hand.

Mia looked sympathetically at the boy as she politely grasped his hand.

Finally, Aden reached Ivan. Wordlessly, he extended his hand to the Jupiter Adept, and it dangled in the air between the two. "Go ahead," Aden said at last. "Take it. Take it all."

Ivan stared at the proffered hand, not quite daring to do as Aden suggested. Then, he looked into Aden's sad blue eyes, and knew what he had to do. Keeping his eyes fixed on Aden's, he seized the other boy's hand. With the entire crowd watching, Ivan once again called his _Mind Read _to life.

But this time, he used it on himself.

The Psynergy was not really meant to be used in this way, but Ivan had known it would work. The problem was not really that it couldn't be done, but that there was no point--why would anyone need to read their own mind, when no one knew their thoughts better than themselves? But this wasn't for Ivan. With his hand clasped onto Aden's, the other boy could share in the Psynergy. All Ivan had to do was to think what he needed to express, and Aden would hear.

He started at the beginning, feeding Aden his earliest memories of life, of being raised by Master Hammet of Kalay. Ivan had never known where he was born, never known his parents, and hence had not understood why he was fundamentally different from the other children. He had practiced Psynergy for as long as he could remember, and had initially assumed that everyone must have this power. Of course, it was his power itself, not any verbal explanation, that made him realize the truth. Soon, some in Kalay began to fear him. He was a strange child, one overly prone to touching people, but such flaws were forgivable. The problem was that he knew things, things that no one should have known. With just a touch, Ivan had pulled secrets, deep worries, subconscious attractions and hidden betrayals from people's minds. He showed Aden all of this, how the people of his village had begun to view him as an oddity, how they'd become increasingly cold and avoided him, afraid that their darkest side would be detected. Then, almost a year ago, Isaac and Garet had come. Ivan had lost the Shaman's Rod entrusted to him by Hammet to thieves, and the two Adepts had helped him recover it. Ivan had felt an unexplained joy at discovering there were others like him, other Adepts. He was not the only one with such strange powers. He was not alone. After reading their minds, he had joined Isaac and Garet on their quest to recover the Elemental Stars. They had met Mia on their way. In spite of their efforts, two of the four Elemental Lighthouses had been lit, and Jenna and Kraden had disappeared. Their search had led them here, to Toreau.

Ivan opened his eyes and quieted his Psynergy. Behind him, he could hear the confused mutterings of the Toreau residents as they tried to decide what was happening. It must have looked strange to them, as Ivan and Aden had frozen in the middle of their handshake, closed their eyes, and . . .

Aden's face had changed. No longer did he squint against the sun, and his dim eyes were no longer overflowing with derision. Instead, his face seemed brighter, and wore an expression of wonder and hope that Ivan had never seen on Aden. He didn't expect what Ivan had done, and it caught him more than off guard. It completely appalled him. Why would Ivan offer this piece of himself, these secrets, when all he had to do was take what he wanted and leave the village forever?

"_Take!_" Aden whispered. "I said _take!_"

So Ivan did.

Aden was the last surviving member of the Pluto clan that had once lived far to the east of Toreau. His hometown had been destroyed when he was about seven by monsters--the same monsters that had finally perished just the previous night. During the attack, his mother, a high Elder of the Pluto clan, had taken him and hidden him in the ruins of the sanctum that stood not far from the village. She had left him there, and gone back to the battle at the village, gone back to use the last of her faltering Psynergy to continue to defend the town. However, the Pluto Adepts were not known for their great strength, and Aden's mother had known it. She gave up her life for him, but at first her sacrifice seemed quite futile. Seven years old and all alone, Aden had wandered the plains, barely staying alive off the meager scraps of food mother earth offered him. Constantly, he was haunted by the thought that, had he and his clan been stronger, they could have beaten the monsters. His mother and his friends would still be alive. So he practiced Psynergy constantly, and quickly became stronger than anyone in his village had been. As the son of a high Elder, Aden apparently had inborn talent. After a year of being on his own, Aden was discovered by Tyrus, a general of Toreau. When he heard that Toreau was battling the same monsters that destroyed his town, Aden used his power to help them--but not before leaving town and returning as Devon. Aden had continued to live in Toreau, sleeping during the day, and playing his Devon role at night. Exhausted during the day, his Aden personality began to decline, and quickly earned the disgust of the villagers. He was antisocial and irritable because he slept so much, pathetic because he was so small compared to the other boys in Toreau, and crazy because he preferred reading to fighting. Devon, Aden realized, was by far the better person. His fictional creation was infinitely more interesting than himself. So, Aden sunk into detested obscurity, while Devon earned respect and, eventually, a position of leadership. The last surviving Pluto Adept was simultaneously loved and hated. . . .

The Psynergy finally died down, and the two boys, finally freed from the sharing of internal thoughts, examined each others' faces as if to judge how well it fit with their emotions. Ivan had never done something so deeply amazing with his _Mind Read _before. He had known Aden for no more than a day, yet he somehow felt as if they knew each other better than anyone ever had, as if they'd grown up together as close childhood friends. He would explain most of Aden's past to the others later, just as Devon could explain Ivan to his generals, but neither could share all they had gained. The emotion that went along with the events, the insecurities both had felt in their similar pasts . . . those would remain their own, secrets between two friends.

"You could come with us," Ivan offered.

Aden shook his head. "If you've been reading me at all, you know I can't. The war has been won, but war is all these people know. I have to stay, to teach them about art, culture, writing, music. When the book store is as popular as the tavern, maybe my work will be finished."

Ivan nodded. "Tell them, though. Tell your men the truth. You're only one person. There's no need to pretend you're two. They would understand."

Aden sighed. "Maybe."

As the group left Toreau, the other three glancing quizzically at Ivan, Aden waved at them and smiled, the first genuine smile Ivan had seen from him.

Through the distance, with his black hair and smiling face, Aden looked exactly like Devon.


End file.
